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CUPID AND THE LA W 


A COLLECTION of SHORT STORIES 

'Ey <RAE SOARES 

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HONOLULU: 

The Hawaiian Gazette Co., Ltd. 
1908 

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Received from 
Copyright Office. 

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PROFESSOR M. M. SCOTT 


AND THE 


CLASS of 1908 


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JUi 20 1908 

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COPY A. 


Copyright, 1908, By Rae Soares 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

A Deal in Opium 7 

A Modern Evangeline 2 1 

Cupid and The Law 35 

The New Magnetic Healer . . 47 
In the Valley of Teeth . . 57 

The Raid at Punchbowl 67 

A Change of Opinion 77 

A Fatal Excursion 


95 



















A DEAL IN OPIUM 


















A DEAL IN OPIUM 


F course, the people which participated in 



\<Sy things of this sort are dead now, and so 
is nearly every one which ever knew anything 
about the matter, hut occasionally you will run 
across an old Hawaiian whose memory you can 
always refresh by showing him a bit of silver, 
and then you will hear tales of the days when 
smuggling opium into Honolulu was a common 
practise. 

There are some who will tell you that the 
blocks on the sidewalk on the right hand side of 
Alakea street were taken from the holds of 
smugglers. Nothing so very astonishing, only, 
in the middle of these blocks the initiated found 
a can of opium. Parties would contract for a 
load of Chinese stone and the unsuspecting Cus- 
toms man would pass the ship which brought it. 
But when the stones were safely carried away, 
this same Customs man would have been aston- 
ished, could he have seen a man remove a layer 
from a block and take out from the cavity a can. 


10 


A Deal in Opium. 


He would have been further astounded could he 
have seen what the can contained. 

Ah Pung had contracted for such a load of 
stone and was anxiously awaiting the arrival of 
the ship bearing it. 

Smuggling opium was getting to he a risky 
proposition and in view of the alarming number 
of captures which the government had made 
and the large amount of fines which it had col- 
lected from those whom it captured, Ah Pung 
made a mental resolve, as he walked down to the 
Pilot House to ask if the Fanny had been 
sighted, that with the sale of this load, his part 
in this illegal business terminated. 

The Fanny was making an unusually slow 
passage, and many were the conjectures placed 
upon her delay. 

“Bet you she’s got a load of opium this trip,” 
said one old sea dog to a group of his com- 
panions. 

“Your bet is safe,” was the reply from the 
youngest of the number, “she had a load of it 
last trip. My opinion on her delay is this: Her 
captain’s got the wind that somethin’ is blow- 
ing wrong and he’s not going to risk his cargo 
and his ship by coming in, unless the coast is 
clear. 

“Old Captain Mitchell is too crafty a sea dog 
to be caught napping. He’s been engaged in 
this smuggling business for over twenty years. 


A Deal in Opium. 


11 


Used to smuggle wines from Portugal into Bos- 
ton Harbor at one time, and then, when he 
found the job getting pretty hot, he took his 
ship when no body was looking, and went into 
smuggling opium. I was first mate under him 
two trips ago, and I know. 

“Fll bet you,” he said suddenly to the first 
speaker, “Fll bet you that this old Chink has 
got the cargo on board the Fanny this time.” 

The group fixed its eyes on Ah Pung who 
was nervously watching a customs officer who, 
from time to time, was scanning the horizon 
with his glass. 

Hearing what the mate said, Ah Pung turned 
to them and said, “Yes, me got calgo on boad 
the Flanny. Too muchee building stone this 
trip. Got big contlact make floo’ for lice thlesh- 
ing, up Waiau.” 

A number of the sailors nodded as if they 
accepted the Chinaman’s story, but the mate 
smiled. “That’s all right, John; don’t need to 
worry about us, you pig-tailed heathen. I know 
very well what’s inside them stones, but if you 
can land them without that chap nabbing you, 
you’ll have my sincerest admiration. I tell 
you,” he said lowering his voice, “you’d better 
get some kind of a signal out to the Fanny tell- 
ing her not to land those stones at the wharf.” 

The Chinaman looked the mate over carefully 
and then, as if satisfied with his examination, 


12 


A Deal in Opium. 


he said, “My lice schooner captain he sick. Yon 
number one sailor; yon take my boat to Waian 
now.” 

Roberts understood the ruse and got up smil- 
ingly from his box and went over to Ah Pung’s 
rice schooner. The sails were hoisted and the 
little schooner bounded out of the harbor. In- 
stead of turning to his right, to where Waiau 
lay, Roberts steered the schooner in the direc- 
tion of Diamond Head. 

In response to the Chinaman’s inquiring look 
Roberts said, “That government schooner is out 
some where. We’ll have to find out where be- 
fore we can do anything. 

The schooner was skimming along at a good 
clip when Ah Pung’s excited eyes saw another 
schooner bearing down upon them. 

“Ho,” Roberts said after looking the new 
comer over, “that’s not the Fanny ; that’s the 
customs’ schooner. Well, we’ll make for 
Waiau.” 

Carefully swinging her around, he started 
back to town but was hailed with the cry, “Ship 
ahoy !” 

“The Moi Wahine was the reply. 

“Haul hard until we come up to you,” was 
the order. 

Roberts had the one sailor on hoard haul down 
the sails and awaited the coming of the cus- 
toms boat. 


A Deal in Opium. 


13 


“What are you doing?” he was asked. 

“Merely trying this boat.” 

“What for?” 

“Want to buy her.” 

“What made you turn around when you saw 
us ?” 

“Didn’t see you until after I had started to 
come back.” 

The officer seemed appeased and he ordered 
his own sail up. Roberts followed suit and 
turning to the captain he said, “I’ll race you 
back to the harbor for a drink all around.” 

“That’s to find out who has the faster boat,” 
he muttered to himself. 

“All right, let her go,” he shouted and both 
boats fairly flew, cutting the water with clean, 
sharp strokes as they sped along. 

Roberts put on all the sail he had; the cus- 
toms’ .man did the same and gained rapidly. 

“WTiew,” muttered Roberts, “not much of a 
chance for us, Ah Pung, if we were in a pinch 
now. But wait a moment, I’ll fix him.” He 
veered slightly to the left and took advantage of 
a sudden puff of wind. That was all the Moi 
W ahine needed ; her masts fairly groaned under 
the spread of canvas and soon the customs man 
was out of sight. 

“I understand her now,” Roberts said, “I’ll 
guarantee to beat anything in these waters. But 


14 


A Deal in Opium. 


let’s go to Waiau. I want to see what kind of 
a harbor they have there.” 

“Nothing decent,” was his verdict. “Catch 
ns here easy. 1 have it,” he said finally, “there’s 
Ford’s Island off there,” jerking his thumb in 
the direction of the island, “that’ll help us 
alright. Now let’s go back to the harbor and 
get those drinks the captain owes us.” 

The captain was found pouring a drink from 
a demijohn in his office. “It’s on me,” he called 
as Roberts passed by. He entered and took the 
mug which the captain filled for him. 

“By the way,” he asked, “what were you do- 
ing out by Diamond Head this afternoon ?” 

“Looking for the Fanny. I can’t imagine 
what’s become of the boat.” 

“What’s so wonderful on the Fanny that 
makes you so anxious to meet her !” 

“Opium.” 

“What do you intend to do ?” 

“Do ? Nothing now. Wait until she gets 
into the harbor and then nab the man that her 
cargo is assigned to.” 

“But supposing he manages to land the cargo 
before the boat reaches the harbor, then what ?” 

“Take a mighty smart man to skin me, old 
fellow. Fill up your mug, I see it’s empty.” 

“Here’s to the Fanny; may she make port 
safely.” 


A Deal in Opium. 


15 


The captain looked at Roberts in mild sur- 
prise but he drank the toast and added, “May 
she make port safely and give her cargo up to 
the government.” 

Roberts left the room and found Ah Pung 
waiting for him. 

“You come my house eat,” he said. 

The invitation was accepted and Roberts was 
soon at Ah Pung’s home. It was a pretentious 
dwelling, for Ah Pung had money. He had 
married a Hawaiian woman who possessed a 
large quantity of land. A part of this her hus- 
band had sold to enable him to buy opium, and 
after the second trip, he was counted a rich man. 

Ah Pung had a daughter. Though dark- 
skinned, Kealoha was fair to behold. She had 
inherited her mother’s Hawaiian beauty, and 
her only Chinese characteristic shown from her 
eyes. 

Sam Roberts was a roving sort of a fellow. 
Many were the girls who would have gladly 
married him “back East,” but he would have 
none of them. Tonight, as he sat on the floor, 
which formed Ah Pung’s dining table, by the 
side of pretty Kealoha, he thought he had never 
seen any Hawaiian or any other maiden look 
so lovely. 

Around her head she had a lei of red carna- 
tions, and another of ilima hung around her 
neck. Lost in the contemplation of so lovely a 


16 


A Deal in Opium. 


vision, Roberts failed to do justice to the ex- 
cellent meal which Ah Pung had provided. 

When dinner was over, Ah Pung led his guest 
out to the lanai and together they planned their 
campaign. 

“You help me, I help you,” said Ah Pung. 

“Yes, I help you, but what do I get out of this 
business ?” 

Ah Pung had noticed the effect which Kea- 
loha had produced upon Roberts and with a 
crafty smile he answered, “You help me, make 
me win, I give you Kealoha.” 

“But suppose she won’t have me ?” 

“Kealoha have anybody I tell her have,” was 
the Chinaman’s response. 

“The stake is well worth the risk,” Roberts 
muttered. “I make the old Chink win.” 

Kealoha came out with her guitar and in 
the short twilight, she sang several plaintive Ha- 
waiian melodies. Then she suddenly arose and 
went into the house. 

Roberts got up from his chair and said, “Let’s 
go out to Diamond Head. I have an idea that 
the Fanny is somewhere around there.” 

They went to the wharf and rousing the sailor 
aboard the Moi Waliine, the sails were raised 
and in the calm moonlight they sped away to 
Diamond Head. W 7 hen they were in full sight 
of the light house, Roberts saw a green light 
flash out over the water from a large black 


A Deal in Opium. 


17 


mass which was blacker than the darkness 
around it. The green light was followed by two 
red ones, and then by a white one. Roberts 
returned the signal and sailed for the spot. 

“Ship ahoy!” he called softly. 

“The Fanny ” was the response. “Who are 
you ?” 

“The Moi Wahine. Don’t attempt to land at 
Honolulu. Customs’ men are on to you. They 
were looking for you yesterday.” 

The Fanny's captain laughed. “What would 
you advise, Roberts ?” 

“Go to Pearl Harbor instead. Nobody has 
seen you. The old fellow up there is asleep and 
we can get up to Pearl Harbor with this wind 
before daybreak. Once there, you can remain 
in hiding ’til night. Then I’ll come and trans- 
fer your cargo into the Moi Wahine ” 

Capt. Mitchell favored the plan and with the 
Moi Wahine in the lead, the two schooners 
sailed to Pearl Harbor, where the Fanny was 
anchored. The Moi Wahine was sailed back to 
town and moored at her usual place. 

“Nobody will be the wiser, old chap,” he said 
to Ah Pung. “We’ll stay at home today and 
tonight the opium will be brought back. Let 
the stones stay in the hold until the next night, 
then we’ll bring them to your house, a few at a 
time. Then, Ah Pung, I’ll claim my reward.” 


18 


A Deal in Opium. 


Ah Pung nodded and invited Sam in to spend 
the day at his house. 

After breakfast he followed Kealoha into the 
yard, and watched her make a lei. 

They were silent for a while when Kealoha 
asked, “You’ll help my father land his opium ?” 

“Yes,” he replied. 

“How much money will you get for the job ?” 

“Ho money at all ; my dear, I get you.” 

“You get me?” 

“Yes, your father has promised to let me 
marry you if I succeed in landing the opium so 
that the customs men won’t know.” 

“Can you do it?” 

“Dead easy.” 

“But if I don’t want to marry you ?” 

“But you will,” he said smilingly. 

“But I won’t,” she returned firmly. Do you 
think I sell myself or let my father sell me for 
a load of opium. No, sir ! What’s more, I am 
to marry Kea.” 

“Don’t you love your father?” 

“Yes, very much.” 

“Then do you want to see him go to jail ?” 
“No.” 

.“Well, if I say the word, I’ll get him into 
jail.” 

Kealoha burst into tears. “You white men 
are so cruel,” she sobbed out in Hawaiian. “Not 


A Deal in Opium. 


19 


content with defrauding us out of our lands, you 
wish to keep us from marrying one another.” 

Roberts bit his lips. He disliked to see woman 
in tears. He took her hands in his and said 
gently, “Kealoha, listen to me.” 

She raised her head and with brimming eyes 
looked him full in the face. 

“Kealoha,” he said, “couldn’t you learn to 
love me ?” 

She shook her head. 

“Do you love Kea ?” 

“Yes,” she said softly. 

“Then, Kealoha, I am not the man to cross 
the love path of another man.” He was silent 
for a moment then he continued: “I love you 
as I have never loved before. You say you love 
your father. For your sake, dear heart, I’ll not 
betray him. Go, tell your father that I have 
given my permission for you to marry Kea to- 
night. Go.” 

Kealoha threw her head upon his shoulder 
and sobbed out her thanks. Then raising her 
pretty face to his, she pressed a kiss on his lips 
and left him to himself. 












































A MODERN 


EVANGELINE 



A MODERN EVAN- 
GELINE 

T HE sun was sinking behind the purple 
hills in a little village in Madeira as a 
tall, swarthy Portuguese hurried to his little 
home. 

“Ah, Manuel,” he cried as an older man came 
out of a little side street, “have you heard the 
latest bit of news ?” 

“Nao, Gabriel, what is it ?” 

“A man from the Sandwich Islands has come 
here, offering to give us free passage to Hono- 
lulu provided we work for three years on the 
sugar plantations. He promises us twenty-two 
dollars a month together with a house and free 
water. I, for one, intend to go. Twenty-two 
dollars a month! Why, fourteen is all I can 
make here, working from early morning Til late 
at night. What say you ; will you be one of the 
company ?” 


24 


A Modern Evangeline. 


“That I will. I have a brother there and my 
wife has a sister. We shall tell the man that we 
will go to his plantations, and then when we 
get to the capital, I march up to my brother’s, 
while the rest of you can go and till the soil. I 
am a carpenter, and none of that dirty work 
for me. A free trip ! ha, ha, ha ; I’ll beat the 
American at his own game.” 

“I do not consider that fair,” was Gabriel’s 
response. “The American expects us to keep 
our word. Furthermore, he is offering a re- 
duced passage rate to those who want to pay 
their way.” 

“That won’t do for me. Why, even at the 
smallest possible rate, it would be an utter im- 
possibility for me to take one child, let alone 
fourteen !” 

Gabriel laughed. “Well, I am going to those 
islands, but it is to work on a plantation. Three 
years is but a short while, when you stop to 
consider it, and by the end of that time, I will 
have saved enough to get married on.” 

“Do as you want to, boy, but I tell you 
frankly that you are a fool. You are an excel- 
lent mason ; why throw away the gift which the 
blessed virgin gave you, to kill yourself on an 
old plantation for the sake of sentiment. It is 
expected that there will be some that will take 
advantage of this free trip idea, and you may 


A Modern Evangeline. 


25 


as well be one of those as not. But we’ll not 
quarrel over the matter.” 

They walked on in silence for some moments 
until they came to a neatly white-washed cot- 
tage. There were vines over the front and in 
the little garden in the back, neat garlic patches 
shared the space with cabbages. 

“Will you come in ?” Manuel asked. 

“Ho, I have much to do yet tonight. The 
ship leaves in two or three days and I must leave 
my affairs in something like decency. Boa 
noite ” 

“Boa noite , Gabriel, come over tomorrow and 
let us make our plans.” 

“All right,” and Gabriel continued on his 
way, while Manuel turned into the cottage. He 
was met at the door by his daughter, Maria da 
Cruzs. He had eight daughters and all eight 
were named Maria — of something or other. Of 
course they all had middle names and occa- 
sionally they were called by their middle names 
to avoid confusion. 

“Who was that you were just speaking to,” 
she asked him. 

“What! did you fail to recognize the voice. 
It was that of your own Gabriel.” 

Maria da Cruzs blushed violently as she said, 
“He is not my Gabriel.” 

Her father laughed at his daughter’s discom- 


26 


A Modem Evangeline. 


fiture and added teasingly, “He leaves for the 
Sandwich Islands very soon.” 

“For the Sandwich Islands? Why, they are 
so many, many miles away. Has he enough 
money to pay his passage ?” 

“Ho; an American has arrived offering us 
free passage to Honolulu, provided we promise 
to work on the sugar plantations for three 
years.” 

“Oh, father! let us go.” 

“I thought it was but yesterday that you said 
nothing could induce you to leave Madeira.” 

“Yes,” she said slowly, “but — ” 

“But you didn’t know then that- Gariel was 
going away,” her father supplied. “Well, I 
have almost decided to go myself, but not to 
work on an old plantation, mind you. I am a 
carpenter, and none of your dirty work on a 
field for me.” 

While they talked, Gabriel appeared in the 
doorway. 

“I came back to tell you,” he said, after he 
had greeted Maria, “that if you decide to go, 
you must send in your names tomorrow. The 
man has been here for some time but in this out 
of the way place, news travels slowly, so that 
I but heard it yesterday when I went to Senhor 
Marques’ house to repair his wall, which fell in 
the last wind storm.” 


A Modem Evangeline. 


27 


“Yes, I believe I shall send in my name to- 
morrow,” said Manuel slowly, rising from his 
comfortable position on the floor and going out 
to the kitchen where his wife was preparing the 
dinner for her hungry family, leaving Gabriel 
and Maria da Cruzs together. 

“Ah, Maria,” he said, “to think that we shall 
soon he able to get married. In that blessed 
paradise, I can surely make enough money to 
support both of us. Then, too, our house will 
be free of rent ; and that is quite a saving.” 

Maria was silent, but Gabriel could read in 
her silence that she, too, was pleased with the 
prospect which he was painting. 

“Had we better get married before the boat 
sails, or shall we wait until we get to Hono- 
lulu ?” he asked. 

“Oh, let us wait until we get to the Islands, 
and then we can tell better what lies before us.” 

“Let it be as you say,” Gabriel responded in- 
wardly, well pleased that Maria was as enthusi- 
astic about the islands as he was. 

“I must go now,” he said finally, “but I shall 
see you again in the morning. Boa noite minha 
querida /’ and he disappeared into the darkness. 


28 


A Modem Evangeline. 


II. 

The next morning, Mannel rose earlier than 
his usual early hour, and waited for Gabriel. 

“Ah, my boy,” he said walking toward the 
road as Gabriel finally made an appearance, “if 
you are as slow as that on the plantation, your 
boss will hurry you up with his big black whip.” 

“The bosses do not use whips any more,” 
Gabriel responded. 

“They do not ? How do you know ?” 

“The American said so.” 

“The American lies. I have a brother there 
who went over with the first lot of Portuguese, 
which left on the Priscilla nearly twenty-five 
years ago, to Honolulu. The tales which he 
used to tell me, when he came back, of how the 
bosses, lunas, they call them there, used to treat 
them, would simply scare you. Ho, sir, no plan- 
tations for me, sir; and if you knew what I 
know, you would say the same thing.” 

“Yes, I know what you know; how the lunas 
used to take up the hoes which the men were 
using, and bang them on the head with the 
handles just because they felt like it. I know, 
too, that they used to tie the men up to the fence 
and whip them with their snake whips just be- 
cause the men were a trifle slow, and I know, 
too, that things have changed within the last 


A Modem Evangeline. 


29 


years. With the coming of Annexation, the 
plantation laborer does not suffer what he used 
to, so to the plantations for me.” 

“Well, I am sure you have my permission, 
but let us hurry; the sun is getting quite high 
and we have a number of miles to go yet.” 

They quickened their pace and were soon in 
town where they found a crowd of men and 
women gathered around a large building. 

“That is where the American has his office,” 
said Gabriel, “he is now receiving the names 
of those who want to go. Come, let us enter.” 

They walked in together and awaited their 
turn to book. 

“Your name,” asked the clerk finally of 
Manuel. 

“Manuel Gomes da Silva.” 

“How many children have you ?” 

“ Qnartorze.” 

“How many is that?” asked the “Ameri- 
cano.” 

“Fourteen.” 

“Fourteen ! Good ! That means fourteen 
families some day to make their homes in Ha- 
waii. Fourteen different families to work on 
the plantations. Good !” 

Manuel did not understand what the Ameri- 
can was saying, but he made a very good guess 
and smiled knowingly at Gabriel as he walked 
up to the registrar. 

“Married or single?” he was asked. 


30 


A Modern Evangeline. 


“Single. I intend to marry Manuel’s eldest 
daughter as soon as we get in Honolulu.” 

His remark was translated to the American, 
who rubbed his hands gleefully. “Better and 
better/’ he said. “There goes a man who will 
make Hawaii his permanent home. In years 
to come he will be able to vote and for all we 
know, some of his children may serve in our 
legislature.” 

The interpreter laughed. The idea of a son 
of a plantation hand being a Senator or even a 
Representative appeared ludricous to him, and 
he said so. 

“It has been done before,” he was told, “so 
why can’t it be done again.” 

“Done before?” asked the interpreter, “do 
you mean to tell me that any of your public 
men have had parents who worked on the plan- 
tations ?” 

“Sure,” was the response. 

The interpreter shook his head. “It is un- 
heard of here.” 

“Here, yes; but in America and in Hawaii, 
no. Our school system accounts for that — but 
here comes another man.” 

All day the men booked, and when night 
came, word was given to get ready immediately 
as the boat sailed in three days. 

Manuel and Gabriel stayed in town that night 
and were taken to the wharf to see the 


A Modem Evangeline. 


31 


Suveric, the boat which was to take them to 
the Paradise of the Pacific. 

The remaining days were ones of excitement 
and bustle. Por the two friends, however, there 
was not much to do. No furniture was brought 
as they could get furniture cheaply in Hono- 
lulu. 

“I am going to look at the old house once 
more before I go,” said Gabriel on the day the 
ship was to leave. 

“Better not,” advised Manuel; “you might 
miss the boat.” 

“There is no danger of that. The boat sails 
at five this evening and it is now three in the 
morning. All of my things are on board, so I 
shall have nothing to do when I come back.” 

“Oh, don’t go,” said Mary; “the ship might 
go earlier than they say, and what would I do 
without you !” 

“Don’t worry,” he said, “I want to put some 
fresh flowers on my parents’ graves, before I 
leave this island, never to return.” 

She respected his sentiment and let him go 
without a murmur, hut not without misgivings 
on both her and her father’s part. 

“If he misses this boat, it will he a terrible 
thing for him. All his clothes are aboard and 
I have his money in my note,” Manuel said. 

“Oh, he will have time to go and return,” 
spoke up Joao Mello, who was Gabriel’s friend. 


32 


A Modern Evangeline. 


“Gabriel is a fast walker and could go muck 
further than that in the same time.” 

“It isn’t that,” returned Maria, “suppose the 
boat should leave earlier than we were told it 
would ?” 

“I hadn’t thought of that. If I had,” he 
added thoughtfully, “I wouldn’t have let him 
go. But let us hope for the best,” he added 
cheerfully, seeing that Maria was about to cry. 

III. 

“Captain,” said the first mate of the 
Suveric to his superior officer a few hours 
later, “the tide is going out. Hadn’t we better 
take advantage of it, and leave this morning 
instead of tonight ?” 

“What do you say ?” asked the captain of the 
Americano. 

“Well, the people are all here, so I don’t see 
any objection to sailing now, if you want to. 
I’ll pass along the word. Here, Francisco, tell 
these people to get on board. We leave pretty 
soon.” 

“Pretty soon ?” cried Maria as she heard the 
order, “why, Gabriel will not be here until 
night. Oh, why did I let him go!” And the 
unhappy girl indulged her grief in shrieks of 
the most heart-rending nature. 


A Modern Evangeline. 


33 


“Oh, never mind/’ said the Americano, when 
he heard the reason for her shrieks. “He can 
come later. She will have learned some Eng- 
lish words by that time, and will have an ad- 
vantage over him in that she will be able to teach 
him what she knows.” 

But Maria was inconsolable. “I want my 
Gabriel,” she moaned ; “Ou men Gabriel” 

But crying and wishing for him did not bring 
Gabriel to her, and the long, hard voyage to Ho- 
nolulu was endured without him. 

True to the plans which he had made in 
Madeira, Manuel did not go on a plantation, 
but remained in the city, where he soon obtained 
employment at a much better wage than he had 
been accustomed. 

Maria was fairly good looking, and the young 
men of Honolulu were not slow in finding that 
fact out, and many a suitor she had had before 
she was in town many months. But she met 
them all with the same answer, “I am waiting 
for Gabriel.” 

One day, news arrived that the Kumeric, 
with another load of Portuguese, was coming, 
and Maria was overjoyed. 

“My Gabriel will surely come,” she told her 
father. 

“Your Gabriel?” he replied, “why, when 
you were in Madeira, you said that he was not 
your Gabriel.” 


34 : 


A Modern Evangeline. 


“That was in Madeira/’ she said. 

While they talked on the subject one morn- 
ing, three loud blasts from a whistle interrupted 
their conversation, and soon they heard that the 
Kumeric had been sighted. 

“Oh, let us hurry to the wharf,” Maria said. 

“±\ T o hurry at all. It will take her two hours 
to come in, so we will have plenty of time.” 

But Maria was impatient and finally per- 
suaded her father to “go immediately.” 

The wait was long, but finally the vessel was 
tied to the wharf. Ho one was allowed aboard 
her, and no one was allowed to leave her, so 
those on the wharf had to content themselves 
with picking out from the mass of humanity 
huddled along the side of the ship, faces which 
they recognized. 

Maria peered anxiously at the people on 
board, but she saw no Gabriel. 

Disappointed, she was almost ready to give 
up and go home, when her attention was at- 
tracted by a tall man violently waving his cap 
at her. 

It was Gabriel, and with a cry of delight, she 
rushed up closer to the side of the ship. 

“ Maria miriha ” Gabriel shouted. 

“Good morning my dear,” she replied in 
English. 


CUPID AND THE 

LAW 


CUPID AND THE LAW 



HERE has been great rejoicing in the 


a little village of Hingyan, when Ito and 
Hatsu were married. Ito had money, and he 
spent it lavishly on his feast. Ho one could 
honestly say that the host had been niggardly 
with his sweetmeats or that there had not been 
enough sake to go around. On the contrary, 
the villagers declared that never before had they 
attended such a sumptuous feast. 

Ito was a rice planter. He owned the largest 
rice plantation in the village and had the largest 
stock of buffaloes in the entire district. But 
one day he did not come to his noonday meal, 
and when he arrived at evening he seemed very 
much depressed in spirit. 

“What is troubling my beloved one ?” asked 
his wife, who had never, since she had been 
married, sat down to such a solemn meal. 
Usually Ito was jovial and meal time was an 
event to which Hatsu looked forward with 
eagerness. 


38 


Cupid and the Law. 


Ito tried to look pleasant as bis wife spoke, 
but failed, as be replied, “I fear that we are to 
have a terrible drought this season. It has not 
rained even in the mountains, and the water 
supply is very, very low.” 

“I will go to the temple tomorrow and offer 
up a sacrifice to the Rain God. Perhaps be 
will bear my prayers and send us an abundance 
of rain.” 

“I fear that he will not,” replied her hus- 
band; “I have been daily to the temple this 
week, and as yet there are no signs of rain.” 

“Without rain the crops will fail ?” 

“Most assuredly. The rice is now in the 
stage where it requires a large supply of water. 
Unless we have rains this week or next week at 
the latest, we shall have no rice until next 
year ;” and Ito sadly shook his head. 

“Shall you lose so very much money if the 
crops fail ?” 

“Yes. I have been buying up all the avail- 
able lands owing to the fact that I needed more 
to cultivate rice to supply the Maji contract 
Unless it rain, I shall become a poor man, as 
there is a heavy bond connected with this con- 
tract.” 

“A heavy bond ?” 

“Yes. If at the end of the season I fail to 
produce the required number of bags, I shall be 
obliged to forfeit more than two thousand yen. 


Cupid and the Law. 


39 


Besides, I mortgaged my lands when we got 
married. Things look very dark for us. I 
am afraid we shall he poor ; very poor indeed.” 

“I care not for the luxuries of life. The 
necessities with my husband, are enough for 
me.” 

Ito kissed his wife fondly and was silent. 

True to her promise, Hatsu went to the tem- 
ple and offered a howl of rice to the Rain God. 
Muttering a little prayer for rain, she left the 
temple. “It will surely rain this week,” she 
said ; “the rice was of the best.” 

But it did not rain that week, neither did 
it in the next. And the rice crops became a 
failure, and, true to his prophecy, Ito became 
a poor man. The change of fortune left him a 
small house and lot which had been formerly 
used by his head planter. Ito barely eked out 
a living by raising soy beans. 

Finally, Ito called his wife and said, “we can- 
not live in this miserable condition any longer. I 
have decided to go to America and see what I can 
do. They tell me that America is a land wherein 
the poor man may become rich. Raising the 
soy bean is not hard. I will leave you here to 
tend to it. In three years or, maybe, two, I 
shall send for you, and together we shall live 
in what will resemble former days. If I fail, 
I shall return.” 


40 


Cupid and the Law . 


In vain did Hatsu protest that she was just 
as happy now in the days of want as she had 
been in the days of plenty. Ito had decided to 
go to America, and he went. 

It was a sad leave-taking, but Ito cheered 
his wife saying, “It is only for a few years. I 
shall soon be able to send money for you to 
come to me.” 

Arriving in San Francisco, Ito found work 
on a railroad, digging a tunnel which the com- 
pany had ordered made. He lived in a large 
apartment house which the company furnished 
its working men — all Japanese, who, like him- 
self, had come to the promised land to make 
their fortunes. 


* * * 

Accustomed to low wages in their own coun- 
try, they live accordingly. Coming to America, 
with its higher wages, they keep their old 
methods of living and save money. It was not 
surprising, then, that at the end of two years 
Ito had nearly a thousand dollars in the bank. 
By careful investments at the end of the third 
he was the owner of a sum which would ac- 
credit him a rich man should he go back to 
Japan. Should he go back to Japan, or should 
he remain in America and have his wife come 
to him ? Letters had been but few between 
them, as Hatsu could neither read nor write. 


Cwpid and the Law. 


41 


When he “turned in” at night, the last question 
which flashed through his brain was, “Shall I 
go back to Japan V 9 and the first question which 
greeted him on his awakening was, “Shall I 
send for my wife V 9 

When he had decided finally to do the form- 
er, go back to Japan, his foreman came to him 
and said: “Ito, my boss section man sick; go 
back to Japan. I give you the job; raise you 
five dollars.” 

After hearing this he resolved to stay, and 
wrote a letter to his wife that night, telling her 
to come to him. He would mail her a bank note 
in the morning. Then they would be together, 
and the old times and scenes would be reacted. 

Bright and early did he rise the next morn- 
ing, for he had important work to do. As he 
walked to the bank where he had his savings, 
a countrywoman of his passed, and, bowing, 
asked to be directed to a certain street. Ito 
directed her. Long did he gaze after her, and 
not until a policeman had told him to “move 
on” did he leave the spot. 

“What a beautiful woman,” he muttered. By 
the way which the young woman arranged her 
hair Ito knew that she was unmarried. A wild 
thought flashed through his brain ; why not try 
to get this young woman for his wife ? He had 
forgotten the faithful and patient Hatsu, for- 


42 


Cupid and the Law. 


gotten the little baby which he had never seen, 
forgotten everything connected with his past 
life, save that he had fallen in love with this 
beauty. So the money remained in the bank, 
and the letter was destroyed. 

By degrees Ito became acquainted with the 
beauty. Soon, from a mere acquaintance, a 
warm friendship sprang up between the two, 
and finally this friendship ripened into love, 
and one day Ito announced to his comrades 
that he was to be married. They congratu- 
lated him warmly when they saw his wife, and 
Ito thought himself a fortunate man. 

* * * 

“It is strange, my pet,” said Hatsu one morn- 
ing, “it is strange that your father has not writ- 
ten to us. It has been nearly two years since 
we last heard from him. He said that three 
years at the most would be enough to earn 
money to send for us. And now it is nearly 
five. I wonder if — no, I will not think such a 
thing of the most noble Ito.” 

But she did think, and the more she thought 
the more she became convinced. 

At last she could bear the suspense no longer ; 
she would go to America and seek her husband. 
So, selling the little house to enable her to get 
passage money, all she brought from the old 
home was Ito’s few but precious letters. 


Cupid and the Law. 


43 


Eventually she, too, arrived at San Fran- 
cisco, but was refused admission. 

“But my husband is here,” she told the inter- 
preter. 

“If that is the case,” the official replied, 
“you may come in, but first you will have to 
have your husband come to the station to prove 
that you are his wife.” 

By some mere chance Ito was passing the 
Immigration Station. “There he is now,” 
cried Hatsu, and she rushed forward to greet 
her husband. 

Ito was called inside and was asked, “Who is 
this woman ?” 

Ito looked and saw Hatsu trembling with sur- 
passed emotion. Surely, oh surely, he would 
say the word that would cease all troubles and 
end all separation. 

For an instant Ito paled. Like a flash there 
came before him the view of a woman toiling 
patiently among the soy vines, waiting daily for 
a letter telling her to come to America. 

He had been in the States long enough to 
know that Uncle Sam laid a heavy hand on peo- 
ple who had offended in the way that, he had, so 
he answered, “I do not know her.” 

With a cry of anguish, Hatsu sprang for- 
ward. “Ito,” she cried. But Ito was deaf. 

“Are you sure that you do not know this 
woman ?” asked one of the officials. He had 


44 Cupid and the Law. 

seen may sliams, but this looked to him to be the 
real thing. 

“My wife live with me on Fillmore street,” 
was the answer. 

“Yes,” said a bystander, “I sabe her. Her 
number one pretty woman. Ito too much 
lucky.” 

Ito left the room, but the officials were far 
from satisfied. 

“I believe that he is this woman’s husband,” 
said one of the commissioners who was present. 

“So do I,” was the interpreter’s response. 

“Tell her that I am taking a special interest 
in her case. Ask her if she can prove that he 
is her husband.” 

Taking from her finger a small circlet of 
gold, she said : “This ring was his great 
grandmother’s. There is none like it any- 
where. When he sees it, watch his face. That 
in itself will be sufficient proof.” 

The interpreter took the ring, and the next 
morning Ito received a warrant, ordering his 
appearance in court immediately. 

The prosecuting attorney handed him a ring, 
saying: “Have you ever seen anything like 

this before?” 

Ito took the ring and sank sobbing into a 
chair. 


Cupid and the Law. 


45 


“I gave it to Hatsu the day we were married 
in Japan/’ he confessed. He was sentenced 
on his own evidence and was led away to jail. 

Poor Hatsn was broken-hearted. She dearly 
loved Ito, and to think that he had played her 
false was more than she could believe. 

“Take me back to Dai Nippon/’ she said; 
“take me back. I go to die in the land of my 
fathers.” 



THE NEW MAG- 
NETIC HEALER 


THE NEW MAGNETIC 

he:ale:r 



HE town had been literally flooded that 


year with quacks and fakers in the 


shape of men who either claimed to be able to 
cure disease in any form, or professed to have 
some scheme by which men and women could 
get rich in two weeks. It always happened, 
however, that all those who fell victims to the 
wiles of the last-named gentlemen, were poorer, 
when the time expired, by a few, and sometimes 
a good many, dollars. 

Bollinger, however, eclipsed them all, both 
in his remunerations and in his methods. He 
came towards the close of the year, and when 
he went away, he had enraged the people so, 
that they shut the city’s gates to all magnetic 
healers who tried in the future to locate in that 
town. 

Almost all of his class wore long, flowing 
gowns and beards; but not so with Bollinger. 


50 The New Magnetic Healer. 

He wore a suit of the latest style and cut, and 
was clean-shaven. Before he had been in the 
town three days all the girls had fallen in love 
with him. But Bollinger was an extremely 
modest young man who had no intention of fall- 
ing in love with any of the enamored young 
ladies — at least not during the first week. 

Miss Camilla Knight was away when Bol- 
linger arrived in the town, and did not return 
until he had been there nearly a week. It was 
when she returned that Bollinger discovered 
that being single had its disadvantages. He 
made enquiries, and found out that Camilla liv- 
ed alone with her father, who, besides being a 
widower, was a rough and austere man; one 
who would brook no insult, intentional or other- 
wise, and woe betide the man who dared to in- 
sult Papa Knight by asking him for his daugh- 
ter. There were many young men in the town 
who could show you the exact spot that they 
landed upon after having been kicked off the 
veranda of the Knight home, simply because 
they had had the audacity to ask for Camilla’s 
hand, and, incidentally, the rest of her. 

Camilla had come home ill, and the doctors 
had given up hope of saving her life. When 
Bollinger heard this he hung up a sign which 
read, “Doctor John Bollinger, Magnetic 
Healer.” The town smiled. So this young 
man who had been the cause of so much specula- 


The New Magnetic Healer. 51 

tion as to what his business was, had proven to 
be a mere magnetic healer. With one accord 
they resolved not to patronize him. Camilla’s 
father saw “Dr.” Bollinger’s advertisement in 
one of the town papers, and also an editorial in 
another, urging the people not to go to him. 
He showed the paper to Camilla, who urged 
her father to try him. 

“He can’t do any harm, and he may do some 
good,” soliloquized Papa Knight; “and I’ll be 
hanged if I’ll not do anything because an old 
editor tells me not to.” So he sent for Bol- 
linger. 

Mr. Knight was a little old-fashioned, and 
his ideas of magnetic healers were somewhat 
behind the time. It was no wonder, therefore, 
that he was surprised when an up-to-date young 
man handed him a card which read, “John Bol- 
linger, Magnetic Healer.” 

“Be you the doctor?” he asked, in surprise. 

“I be,” the other replied, with assumed 
gravity. 

“Humph! You don’t look like you had 
enough magnetic power to cure a fly.” 

“Nevertheless I have enough to heal your 
daughter.” 

“How did you know that it was my daughter 
who was ill?” the astonished father asked. 
“You have only just arrived, haven’t you ?” 

“I found out it was your daughter who was 


52 The New Magnetic Healer . 

ill, by my magnetic power,” Bollinger an- 
swered, evading the last question. 

“If that don’t beat all!” ejaculated the old 
man. 

“Allow me to see your daughter,” asked the 
healer. 

The old man led the way to Camilla’s room 
and said to his daughter, “Here’s that young 
healer you were so anxious to have come and 
see you.” He asked her a few simple questions 
as to where she felt the pain, and the like, and 
was told that the pain was in her heart. Tak- 
ing a small pad from his pocket he turned to the 
old man and said, “Do you read ?” 

“Printing, but not writing,” was the answer. 

“Does your daughter read?” 

“Of course she does; do you think you are 
the only one who has had an edication ? Why 
don’t you make use of your magnetic power and 
quit asking so many questions ?” 

Bollinger did not answer his question, but 
continued to write on the pad. Tearing off the 
sheet, he handed it to Camilla and said, “Read 
this to yourself twenty times an hour. But re- 
member! yourself. If you read it aloud, the 
spell will be broken and I shall be unable to do 
anything for you. I will come tomorrow and 
see if you are any better. Good morning.” 
And he picked up his hat and left the room. 
Papa Knight followed him to the front door 


The New Magnetic Healer. 53 

and said, “How much do I owe you for to- 
day’s work?” 

“I prefer to collect my fee all. at once,” the 
doctor replied. 

“How much will that be?” 

“It is impossible for me to tell at present. 
If the cure fails, I do not want a cent; if it 
works — but we will talk of the pay later.” 

“Queer fellow that,” said the old man to 
himself as the healer left the house. “He’s 
different from all the other magnetic healers 
I’ve heard of before. Most of them want their 
money before they begin to work, but this one 
wants to cure before he gets his pay.” 

Meanwhile Camilla was reading her cure not 
twenty times an hour, but sixty: “Hear Ca- 
milla, I love you. Won’t you be mine? An- 
swer me when I come tomorrow,” she read, and 
she did not wait to say “Yes” the first time to 
Bollinger himself, but said “Yes” every time 
she read it. 

Dr. Bollinger went to visit his patient very 
early the next morning to see how the “cure” 
had worked. Papa Knight met him at the 
door, his face all aglow with smiles. “By 
George !” he said, “but you are a wonder. Why ! 
Camilla is as pert as a cricket this morning. 
She wanted to get up and dress, but I wouldn’t 
let her. I was afraid it might harm her.” 


54 The New Magnetic Healer. 

“Why didn’t yon? It would not have done 
her any harm.” 

“I’ll tell her now, if you want me to.” 

“Never mind. I am anxious to complete 
the cure. It is just begun. Let us go to Cam — 
to Miss Knight.” 

They went to the room and the first question 
Bollinger asked was, “If anyone was to ask you 
if the cure was a success, what would you say ?” 

“I would say, ‘Yes’,” she replied. 

“And do you say ‘Yes’ to the question the 
cure asked ?” 

“Yes,” was the response. 

Bollinger must have forgotten where he was, 
and who was present with him, for he lifted 
Camilla from her bed, and kissed her again and 
again. 

“See here, young man,” said Papa Knight 
when he had recovered from his astonishment. 
“What in thunder do you mean ?” 

“This is a part of the cure,” Bollinger an- 
swered, “and you must not interrupt.” 

“Take those kinds of cures somewhere else, 
you rascal; I don’t want any of them.” 

“Neither do I want to give any of them to 
you,” Bollinger answered. 

“Git out of my house !” roared the old man. 
“Git!” 

“Before I go, allow me to tell you something 
which will no doubt surprise you. I love your 


The New Magnetic Healer. 55 

daughter ; she, in turn, loves me. Have we your 
permission to get married V ’ 

Force of habit is strong, and, for answer, 
Papa Knight opened the door leading to the 
veranda, and prepared to treat Bollinger as he 
had treated many others who had asked him a 
similar question. But Bollinger was too quick 
for him. He caught the old man up as if he 
were a child, and placed him upon a chair. 

“Pm determined to have your daughter, Mr. 
Knight, cost what it may. Will you give her to 
me, or shall I have to take recourse to my mag- 
netic power to get what I want ?” 

“Do you want to go with this young upstart, 
Camilla V ’ her father asked. 

“He is not an upstart,” she said, stoutly. 

“Don’t contradict! Answer my question: 
Do you want to go with this young fellow ?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then go; I wash my hands clean of you. 
Git !” he shouted. 

And they “got.” 

* * * * * * * 

“Bollinger,” said a young man to the mag- 
netic healer-of-a-day as they were seated in the 
former’s comfortable rooms in a hotel, “I heard 
today that you at one time practiced magnetic 
healing. Is that true ?” 

Bollinger glanced at his wife and both broke 
out into peais of laughter. When they finally 


56 The New Magnetic Healer. 

calmed down, Bollinger asked, “And did your 
informer tell you who my first patient was V 9 

“Your wife,” was the laconic answer. Mr. 
and Mrs. Bollinger laughed again. 

“I think you might tell me what the joke is,” 
the young man said. 

“Well,” began Bollinger, “I was spending 
my vacation in Logansport one summer, where 
I met Mrs. Bollinger. She had come to see an 
aunt who lived near my hotel, and we saw a 
good deal of each other. By dint of many en- 
quiries, I found out that her father was a tough 
customer, so I laid my plans accordingly. You 
see, I had fallen in love with the fair Camilla, 
and I could not rest until she was mine. IJpon 
reaching home, Miss Knight was to pretend 
that she was ill. I was to bribe the old country 
doctor to declare that Camilla was beyond all 
hope of recovery. Then I was to step in, and, 
with my magnetic power, cure her, and, out of 
sheer gratitude, Papa Knight would give her to 
me. But w T hen I did cure his daughter’s 
malady, like old Pharaoh, he hardened his 
heart, and instead of giving me his daughter 
lie wanted to give me a kick. I threatened him 
with my magnetic power, and he finally gave 
her to me. There’s the story of the time when 
I practiced magnetic healing. Are you satis- 
fied ?” and, looking at Mrs. Bollinger, he burst 
into another roar of laughter, but this time his 
guest joined him, for he was thinking that the 
little ruse would bear repeating. 


IN THE VALLEY OF 

TEETH 


IN THE VALLEY OF 
TEETH 


6 6 1 D) Y Jove, I’ve an idea!” Doctor Eoth- 
o well brought down his tilted chair 
with a resounding whack. 

“An idea?” said Rodger Wilbur, throwing 
down the paper which he was reading, “really, 
let’s have it” 

“I was reading an account in a paper Frank 
sent me from Honolulu of a battle which took 
place there a number of years ago. They cele- 
brated the anniversary or did something the 
other day worthy of the account occupying pre- 
ferred position on the front page.” 

“Well, what’s so interesting in that? Lots 
of celebrations here in ISTew York have the re- 
port of their doings on the front page.” 

“The account went on to say,” continued 
Rothwell, ignoring his friend’s remark, “of how 
a large number of men were sent to their death 


60 


In the Valley of Teeth. 


by some chief driving them over a huge preci- 
pice. That was a pretty long time ago; now 
the plain is covered with the skeletons of the 
warriors and it is visited by the Hawaiians oc- 
casionally, who have a secret trail to the place.” 

Rothwell paused for breath and Wilbur lan- 
guidly remarked, “ Any thing more connected 
with this idea of yours V 9 

“Rodger Wilbur, you are a man who does not 
deserve the luck which Dame Fortune is laying 
at your door. You don’t deserve to hear any- 
thing about a plan that will pull more in a day 
than your measly law gives you in a month.” 

“Come Rothwell, don’t get angry. Explain 
yourself a bit.” 

“Well, my plan is this; let us go to Hono- 
lulu, get the teeth in that valley, bring them 
back to Hew York, and sell them as artificial 
teeth. We’ll open up a wholesale “false tooth” 
shop and, my boy, our fortunes are made. The 
expense will be practically nothing as we were 
both planning to spend the summer in London. 
The cost of living there would be more than we 
would spend in Honolulu. What do you say ?” 

“Let’s go; and I say old chap, just sort of 
forgive me for showing a lack of interest in 
your plan at the beginning, will you ?” 

“I will this time, but I don’t promise to 
always. This is not the only occasion in which 
you have showed a lack of appreciation for the 


In the Valley of Teeth. 61 

schemes of my fertile brain. But when shall 
we start ?” 

“Tomorrow.” 

* * * 

The trip was uneventful and when the Pris- 
cilla landed at Honolulu, she had on board two 
very impatient passengers in the shape of 
Dr. Rothwell and Rodger Wilbur. That very 
day they hired a hack and rode out to the pali , 
where they saw for themselves the plain of 
which they had read. 

“Any way to get down there?” Rothwell 
asked to the driver, on their way homeward. 

“Sure; want to go?” 

“Yes.” 

“Alright, I’ll find you a man that will take 
you there. I’ll come to your hotel, say at nine, 
and he’ll be waiting up there for us.” 

The enterprising tourists were ready prompt- 
ly the next morning and were taken in tow by 
the Hawaiian guide. They noted the land- 
marks carefully for their plans were to make 
many visits to this El Dorado. 

As he started to turn back for home, Roth- 
well slipped on a skull which was hidden in 
the grass and by some freak of pressure, the 
strong man’s leg snapped like a pipe stem. 

“Here’s a pretty how-do-you-do,” said Wil- 
bur, “how on earth are we to get you home ?” 


62 


In the Valley of Teeth . 


“No piliJcia ” said the guide, “my house 
near. I take care of him till him get better. 
My kekei wahine she akamai fix sick people. 
One week — pan! No pilikia ." 

“That’s the only thing we can do I guess,” 
said Wilbur. “If his daughter is anywhere as 
pretty as that flower girl we saw yesterday on 
the wharf, you have no kick coming. Besides 
I’ll be here every day gathering those teeth. 
Say, did you notice what a lot of them there 
are here ?” 

“More than even I dared hope. Our for- 
tunes are made.” 

Between them, the Hawaiian and Wilbur 
managed to carry Bothwell so that the motion 
caused but little pain to the wounded leg, and 
they soon arrived at the grass hut in which the 
guide and his daughter lived. 

The father spoke a few words to his daughter 
who came out to greet them, and she turned into 
the hut. They followed her and found her 
busy preparing a bed of fresh grass over which 
she had laid a sheet of tapa. They place Both- 
well on his new bed and Violetta deftly treated 
the wounded member. 

“I think better we go now,” said the Ha- 
waiian to Wilbur, “unless you like moi moi in 
my house. 

“I thank you, but I’ve an engagement for to- 
night or I would. Good night, Bothwell. After 


In the Valley of Teeth. 


63 


seeing your pretty nurse, I almost wish that it 
was my leg and not yours that is out of com- 
mission.” 

The sudden pain which darted through Roth- 
well’s leg caused him to smile grimly at his 
friend’s wish, but he bade him good night with- 
out another word. 

When Wilbur went to see him the next morn- 
ing Roth well said, “Wilbur, you’d better quit 
coming here until I get better.” 

“And why?” 

“Because people might want to see me and 
might be tempted to stroll toward yonder plain. 
I never credited myself with possessing the only 
enterprising brain in the world, and some of our 
Honolulu friends might think of the scheme 
themselves if they saw those teeth lying around. 
So you had better visit somebody in town for a 
while.” 

“Just as you say. But how are these Ha- 
waiians treating you?” 

“As if I were Kamehameha himself.” 

“Grub good ?” 

“A sick man is not particular and seldom 
wants much grub. They’ve got a stickey sub- 
stance they call poi , which they use in place of 
bread that’s great. Try some,” and Rothwell 
pushed over toward Wilbur a highly polished 
calabash containing a greyish substance. 

“'Got a spoon handy?” that worthy asked. 


64 


In the Valley of Teeth. 


“Spoon? you’re a green one for sure. Poi , 
my dear sir, is eaten this way/’ and Rothwell 
stuck tw T o fingers into the calabash, gave a quick 
twist and placed what adhered to them into his 
mouth and made a grimance of delight. 
“Ono,” he said. 

“Oh, no, indeed! Thank you; nothing of 
that sort for me,” and nothing could induce 
Wilbur to taste poi. 

He soon left, and Violetta, who had seen Wil- 
bur’s expression of disgust while Rothwell was 
initiating him into the mysteries of poi-eating, 
laughed softly. “Your friend is very particu- 
lar,” she said. 

“Very.” 

“Why did you come to Hawaii ?” 

“Well, — er — for business.” 

“You want to buy a sugar plantation ?” 

“Ho, I am a dentist and my friend is a law- 
yer.” 

“What is a dentist?” 

“A man who tends to your teeth.” 

“There are plenty of teeth out on the plain.” 

“Yes, that is what my friend and I are here 
for ; to take those teeth back to Hew York where 
we came from, and sell them to the other 
dentists.” 

“You must not take those teeth away.” The 
black eyes flashed. “That plain is sacred ; you 
must not touch anything there.” 


In the Valley of Teeth. 


65 


“But think of the money there is in this 
proposition.” 

“The teeth must always remain here,” she 
said firmly as she left the room. 

“Here’s a rum go,” said Bothwell. “I hadn’t 
figured on the Hawaiians caring.” 

Nothing more was said on the subject until 
Roth well was able to walk about. Wilbur came 
up to see him and plans were made to carry off 
as large an amount of teeth as was possible. 

“Say, Wilbur, these Hawaiians object to us 
taking the teeth.” 

“They do ?” 

“Yes, and quite strenuously. However, 
we’ll take our chances.” They left the hut and 
started in the direction of the plain 

The old Hawaiian saw them and knew what 
they were after. His daughter had told him of 
the plans and, like her, he objected to having 
them put to the use which the two strangers 
planned. 

“They shall not do it!” he exclaimed, “they 
shall not take away the teeth of those brave 
men.” He followed Rothwell and Wilbur and 
appeared among them as they were filling their 
bags with teeth. 

“IJp higher,” he said, pointing to a smaller 
precipice, “was where the men of Maui fell. 
They were noted for their beautiful teeth. My 
daughter tells me that the haoles are making a 


66 


In the Valley of Teeth. 


collection of teeth. They must not fail to secure 
at least a few of these to take back home.” 

Unsuspecting in the slightest the two men 
followed. They climbed the high precipice, 
their guide in advance. Wilbur followed with 
Roth well close after them. As they neared the 
top the guide held on to a little bush which 
grew near by and suddenly kicked backwards. 
The force of the blow was sufficient to throw 
Wilbur off his balance, and he fell against Roth- 
well. Clutching vainly in the air, both men 
went tumbling down the precipice, and fell on 
the plain beneath, mangled beyond recognition. 

The old Hawaiian gazed in silence at what 
had been two men, then he muttered softly, 
“The valley is safe.” He slowly climbed down 
the height and went back to his hut. Violetta 
met him at the door, a look of enquiry on her 
face. 

The guide said nothing for a moment, then 
he repeated, “The valley is safe.” 


THE RAID AT 
PUNCHBOWL 















* 































THE RAID AT PUNCH- 
BOWL 



HERE were ten grocery stores within a 


radius of half a mile from where 


Manuel Jacinto lived, and all catered to the 
Portuguese trade. Hot enough people lived 
around there to keep more than two grocery 
stores in comfortable circumstances, yet the 
owners of the eight others managed to pay their 
bills, their yearly license fees, and to put money 
in the bank. 

And Manuel Jacinto was thinking of adding 
another store to the long string. Others made 
money so why couldn’t he? The same way 
by which the others managed to subsist would 
put him on the road to being a rich man pro- 
vided he was careful and escaped being apan- 
hado , as the term was for those upon whom the 
heavy hand of the law descended. 

He was telling his friend Jose all this one 
bright Sunday morning as they quietly sipped 


70 


The Raid at Punchbowl. 


their Madeira which Manuel had brought from 
the old country with him on the Suveric when 
he, and over a thousand of his compatriots, de- 
cided to cast their lot in the Paradise of the 
Pacific. 

“But why do you have to fear the law ?” J ose 
asked, “What law can you be breaking by keep- 
ing a grocery store?” 

Manuel laughed. “When you have been here 
as long as I have,” he said, “you’ll understand 
that the laws here are a bit different from those 
in old Villa Nova. How do you suppose that 
ten grocery stores exist in such close prox- 
imity? Hardly any of them sell enough gro- 
ceries to pay the rent. ’Tis the little back room, 
my friend, the little back room which makes us 
want to start more stores.” 

“The little back room ? What do you 
mean ?” 

Jose was a recent arrival and had as yet not 
become acquainted with the ins and outs of a 
Portuguese grocery store. 

“All these stores have a little back room 
where men may come together for a good time,” 
replied Manuel with the superiority born of a 
year’s stay in Honolulu. The store keepers 
want to make money (and who does not?) so 
they put in a barrel of wine in one corner of 
this little back room, and a table in another. 


The Raid at Punchbowl. 


71 


They propose that a game be played and that 
the loser treat the crowd to wine. With a 
chance to get a number of glasses of vinho for 
nothing the men begin to play and the store 
keepers make money, for some one always loses. 
And there is money in this business for me. 
The other stores add a little water to their wine 
to increase the profits. I shall sell only pure 
wine. You know that I brought a large num- 
ber of casks of the best with me when I came. 
My place will be eagerly sought after and, pro- 
vided the law does not interfere, I shall be 
rich.” 

Jose nodded in acquiescence. There was 
much to learn that was different in Honolulu. 

Shortly after his talk with Jose, Manuel 
opened up a store and as a special inducement, 
he offered a glass of three-year-old Madeira to 
all visitors on his opening day. It was not 
long before card games were in progress at 
Manuel’s and the attendance daily increased. 
His wine was purer, it was older, and it was 
stronger than the kind the other stores supplied. 
The players got drunk faster at Manuel’s than 
they did elsewhere, and more than one fight was 
fought in that little back room. Finally a man 
was seriously injured in one of these fights and 
then the police began to sit up and take notice. 

“We’ll raid that place tomorrow night,” said 
the Sheriff to a friend who brought him news 


72 


The Raid at Punchbowl . 


of the latest escapade for which the wine in 
Manuel’s place was responsible. 

“By the way,” asked the friend, “how do you 
raid ?” 

“Easy. We send in a man with a marked 
coin to purchase a drink. We usually have him 
buy a bottle of wine which he brings out to us. 
Then we go in and arrest the store keeper. We 
nab the cash drawer, get the marked coin and 
bring it to court with the bottle for testimony. 
It’s easy to convict in this way.” 

J oao Pinto, known to the rest of the force as 
“Long John,” overheard this conversation. 
Long John was in love with Maria, and Maria 
was Manuel’s daughter. Supposing that her 
father should send Maria to sell the wine on 
the morrow ? He loved her, but his duty would 
compel him to arrest her just the same. If he 
did though, he would have to give up all hope of 
marrying her. If Maria was not selling wine 
at the time of the raid, her father would, and 
that was almost the same, for Maria fairly wor- 
shiped her father, and, were he arrested, she 
would never forgive the policia who had a hand 
in the affair. Ah ! he had a plan. He would drop 
a note to Maria hinting at the proposed raid on 
the morrow. He would plead sick the next day 
and so escape being sent out. John chuckled at 
the plan. Writing the note he dispatched it by a 
small boy who lived near Manuel’s store. He 


The Raid at Punchbowl. 73 

went back to the office and met the chief, who 
said: “John, that new store on Punchbowl is 
raising hell with the Portuguese. We’ll raid 
that place tonight.” 

“Tonight?” burst involuntarily from John’s 
lips. 

“Yes, tonight. Things are worse than I 
thought. We can’t put it off for another day. 
Here’s the marked coin. Go in and have a 
game of cards; lose; treat the crowd. We’ll 
be there about seven. So long.” And the chief 
went out to dinner. 

Tonight ! and he had told Manuel in his let- 
ter to have a good time that evening as on the 
morrow the store would have to be quiet. 

But it would soon be seven and his duty had 
to be performed even at the cost of Maria. 

He entered the store and was greeted heartily 
by Manuel who took him aside and whispered, 
“Thanks for the warning. I’ll give my con- 
sent for any day which you may choose to 
marry Maria.” 

John nodded mechanically as he turned to go 
to the card table. “Let’s have a game of cards,” 
he said. “The loser pays, of course,” 

All turned their attention to the game. The 
well thumbed pack was brought out and given 
to John to cut. The game progressed merrily 
enough for the others, but John was silent. 
Finally he lost the game. 


74 


The Raid at Punchbowl. 


“Wine all around,” lie muttered hoarsely. 

“Here, Maria,” shouted her father to the 
daughter in the store proper, “come and give 
these gentlemen some wine.” They drank the 
wine and John flung the marked coin on the 
counter and started for the door. 

Oh, this raiding business was awful ! 

But before he had reached the door he heard 
Manuel shout to his daughter, “Ajoga o din- 
heir o.” (Throw away the money.) “The police 
are upon us !” 

Maria had the coin, which John had paid, in 
her hand. Just outside the little back room 
was a pit covered with boards over which her 
father’s horse and wagon were washed. Maria 
ran out quickly, dropped the coin between the 
cracks, and heard the splash which it made as it 
touched the water. 

She returned and saw an officer examining 
the cash drawer for the marked coin. 

“Eu digo a verdade,” her father said, “Me 
no sell wine ; me give mans.” 

“You’re a liar,” said the officer testily, for he 
hated to be beaten in a raid, “but just the same 
I’ll have to let you go this time. Look out for 
us, however.” And the police left the store 
amid the jeers and gibes of the hangers-on at 
Manuel’s. 


The Paid at Punchbowl. 


75 


“The rascal/’ said Manuel to his daughter 
when all was quiet, “to try and catch us in a 
trap like that.” 

“Never mind him,” said Maria with a toss 
of her pretty head. “I fooled him once to- 
night and I’ll fool him again. I just promised 
Antonio that I’d marry him after the Festa do 
Espirito Santo 



A CHANGE OF 
OPINION 



A CHANGE OF OPINION 


i. 



F course it happened at the club. Things 


VOy of this kind always happen at a club, 
either because the members feel freer to discuss 
the weaker sex when they are not around, or 
because some men think a club the only place 


for such speeches. 


John Harris made the remark, and Walter 
Andrews, the pet of half the ladies in the town, 
was its bitterest opposer. 

“I do not believe it,” he said vehemently. 
“You can not make me believe it.” 

“Nevertheless, my boy, I repeat; no one ever 
saw or heard of a really beautiful woman who 
was good. Mark you, I’m not saying anything 
against the merely Very pretty girl.’ I’ll admit 
that there are some very pretty women who, in 
addition to their loveliness, are really good. 
But these are merely pretty, not beautiful,” 
Harris replied. 


80 


A Change of Opinion . 


“What is your standard of ‘goodness’ in a 
woman, anyway?” 

“Well, I’ll admit that my ideal woman would 
be hard to find. Even the ‘goodness’ part would 
be largely above par in a plain, ugly woman, 
let alone in a beautiful one. So I’ll take off a 
few requirements, and if you can find me a 
woman who is not a flirt even in the strictest 
sense of the word, and who never has been 
accused of trying to make a man love her, and, 
when she has him in that fix, declare that she 
only ‘likes him,’ and ‘hopes that they’ll always 
be friends’ ; if you can find such a woman, I’ll — 
but you can’t.” 

The subject was dropped, and shortly after 
Andrews left the club. He went home early and 
to bed, but sleep did not come as it was wont to. 
All night long he tossed thinking of what Harris 
had said, and wondering where he could find a 
woman who could come up to the requirements. 

II. 

It was a very preoccupied Andrews which en- 
tered the office of “Roberts and Andrews” the 
next morning, and more than once his partner 
asked, “What is the matter with you ?” 

“Nothing much,” was the invariable response. 

Toward afternoon, Mr. Roberts came to him 
and said, “Andrews, my niece is coming here 


A Change of Opinion. 


81 


to visit us for a while. Can you suggest any- 
thing which would be nice for a young lady of 
twenty or twenty-one to do ?” 

“IIow’s yachting ?” 

“The very thing. Funny that we did not think 
about that. Diana is very fond of it, she writes. 
You have a yacht, haven’t you?” 

“Yes.” 

“What do you call her ?” 

“The yacht’s name is Diana ” said Andrews, 
digging his paper-cutter into the blotter on his 
desk. 

“Queer name that, for a yacht. If I wasn’t 
positive that I had not mentioned my niece’s 
name to you, I would swear that you christened 
your boat since I began talking to you. How- 
ever, I will have to go back to the house for a 
while, as I left Diana’s picture at home and 
Jones wants to make a cut of it for tomorrow’s 
Leader. I’ll be back soon and will show it to 
you before I take it down.” 

The senior partner left the office and An- 
drews laughed loud and long. “Positive that he 
hadn’t mentioned the young lady’s name to me, 
was he ? Oh, that reminds me that I’ll have to 
get the name on the yacht changed. He reached 
for the 'phone and after getting into communica- 
tion with the man that took care of the boat for 
him, he said, “Say, strike off the name and put 
on Diana.” 


82 


A Change of Opinion. 


Andrews had barely resumed work when 
Harris came in. “Hello, old man,” he said in 
response to Andrews’ greeting, “I dreamed 
about you last night.” 

“The dickens you did,” replied Andrews, “I 
dreamed about you ” 

“This is getting interesting. What did you 
dream ?” 

“I dreamed that I saw the most beautiful 
woman imaginable coming toward me with out- 
stretched arms. Just as I was about to touch 
her she disappeared, and in her stead, I saw 
you. You had a hard, cynical sneer upon your 
face and you said to me, ‘She is beautiful, but is 
she good V Yes, she is beautiful, but she is not 
good.” 

“By Jove, Andrews, my dream was almost 
exactly like yours. What can it mean ?” 

Walter shook his head. “I don’t know,” he 
said; “but I wish you hadn’t made such a fool 
statement.” 

Roberts came in just then, and excusing him- 
self, Harris left the office. 

Walter went over to the old man’s desk and 
watched him as he slowly took out a large photo- 
graph from a mailing envelope. Andrews gave 
one glance at it, then with a shriek he flung 
the picture to the floor and sank into a chair pale 
as a sheet. Mr. Roberts looked at him in blank 
amazement. 


A Change of Opinion. 


83 


“I am not feeling well,” lie explained as he 
picked up his hat to go home. 

The picture which his partner had shown him 
was a duplicate of the face he had seen in his 
dreams, and which, without doubt, was the same 
which his friend had seen. 

III. 

The train to Mulford slowed down at the 
station of the little seaport town and from one of 
the parlor cars a young woman stepped out to 
the platform. 

“She was beautiful.” There was no denying 
the fact. Even the most unemotional man 
would have stared long and hard at the retreat- 
ing figure once he caught sight of her face. 

Anthony .Roberts stepped out from the inte- 
rior of the station and kissed his niece im- 
pulsively. 

******* 

“How then, Harris,” said a voice at his ear, 
“dare you say that that beautiful woman is not 
good ?” 

Harris turned and saw *a young member of 
the club who had been present when his chal- 
lenge had been made. “Hello, George, what 
woman do you mean ?” 

“The one walking with old man Roberts.” 

Harris looked in the direction which his 


84 A Change of Opinion. 

friend pointed, then gripped his arm convul- 
sively. 

“What the mischief are you gripping me that 
way for ? If all women affect you this way no 
wonder you say that no beautiful woman is 
good. But, man, you are pale as a ghost. Are 
you ill ?” 

“I am not well. Let’s go to the club.” 

When they reached their destination, Harris 
sought a secluded corner. “Has she come to fol- 
low me up and torment me again ?” he thought. 
“Poor Walter, if he sees her he’ll try to prove 
that although she is beautiful, this — ” he swal- 
lowed hard — “is a good woman. By God! I’ll 
let him alone, let him get severely punished and 
see if he won’t change his mind a bit. They 
said that I was to marry her.” Silently one 
by one there came to him scenes of what had 
seemed like a year in heaven, and following 
them, came what he had thought a miniature 
Hell on earth. 

As if from the throat of some unseen person 
there came the word, “I can’t marry you John, 
let us just be friends.” 

“I hate you,” he shouted at the top of his 
voice. 

A waiter ran up to the room. “Did you call, 
sir?” 


“Yes, bring me a whiskey.” 


A Change of Opinion. 85 

Tossing the glass off at one gulp, Harris left 
the room. 


IV. 

As Walter was about to open the door to his 
private office the sound of girlish laughter 
floated over the open transom. 

“It must be Diana,” he said. Opening the 
door he stepped into his office. 

“Good morning, Andrews,” said his partner, 
“allow me.” He took Andrews’ arm and led 
him up to the sofa where the young lady of his 
dreams was seated. 

Andrews bowed his acknowledgment of the 
introduction. He could not trust himself to 
speak. The room was swimming about him and 
he seemed to be enveloped in a hazy mist, out of 
which a woman’s voice was saying, “I made 
bold, Mr. Andrews, to come in and arrange 
your office; freshen it up a bit, you understand.” 

Andrews pulled himself together and looked 
about him. The usual staid office was trans- 
formed into a flower garden. Mowers were 
banked upon each other in a way which bespoke 
a practised hand. 

Roberts and his niece left Andrews’ office and 
went to the firm’s waiting rooms. 

“What is the matter with your partner?” 
Diana asked, “he has such a far away look in 


86 A Change of Opinion . 

his ©yes and he seems to be miles away from the 
office.” 

“Only lately, my dear, only lately. I believe 
you have had some thing to do with it.” 

“I, Uncle?” Diana gasped in astonishment, 
“what do you mean ? I never saw him before.” 

“Until I showed him your photograph, An- 
drews was all that one could ask, but when he 
saw your picture, he dropped it as suddenly as 
if he were holding a hot coal, gave a shriek, and 
skipped out of the office. I had intended to ask 
him what made him act the way he did, but it 
passed my mind.” 

“I am going to ask him myself.” And Diana 
started for Andrew’s office. 

“Diana,” called her uncle. But that young 
lady kept on until she had reached Andrews’ 
room. She knocked twice and receiving no an- 
swer, opened the door and walked in. She 
found Andrews with his head down upon his 
arms on his desk. Gently touching him on the 
shoulder she said, “Mr. Andrews !” 

Walter started up suddenly. “I beg pardon,” 
he stammered, “but I did not sleep at all well 
last 'night and now I was almost gone. Can I, 
and may I, be of any assistance to you ?” His 
old manner had returned and he was now the 
Walter Andrews which his partner had known 
all his life. 


A Change of Opinion. 


87 


Diana was astonished at the sudden transition 
which had taken place and it was her turn to be 
at a loss for something to say. 

“Uncle said you had a yacht,” she finally be- 
gan. 

“Yes,” he replied, “will you be ready to go 
out with me this afternoon ?” 

“I should be delighted to go.” 

They were silent for a moment, then Diana 
said, “Mr. Andrews, I heard that when you saw 
my picture you dropped it and gave a scream 
of terror. May I ask why ?” 

Andrews dropped back into the manner which 
Diana had first seen him. In a strained tone 
of voice he said, “Miss Langdon, someday, but 
not now, I hope to be able to tell you the reason 
for my astonishing behavior.” 

“ Some day, but not now/ ” she quoted ; 
“When will that be ?” 

“When I have known you better,” he said 
bluntly. “When may I call for you ?” 

“I have changed my mind ; I am not going.” 

“But you promised,” reminded Andrews. 

“I do not care if I did,” she returned with 
some heat as she rose and left the room. 

“ ‘She is beautiful, but is she good V ” An- 
drews unconsciously murmured. “Oh, confound 
it, will I never forget that dream ?” 


88 


A Change of Opinion. 

V. 


Towards afternoon Andrews heard a gentle 
knock on his door. 

“Come in,” he said. 

Miss Langdon entered dressed in a sailor 
suit. “You see,” she explained, “I just realized 
that a promise is a promise and so Fve come to 
go yachting with you. Can you go now ?” 

“Can I go?” asked Andrews. “Just watch 
me.” And giving his desk cover a pull, he 
reached for his hat and said, “Fm ready now.” 

“It took you less time to get ready than it 
took me,” she smiled. 

Andrews looked admiringly at her costume 
but said nothing. The distance to the pier was 
not long, and today Andrews found it much 
shorter than usual. Given, a bright vivacious 
girl and a man who appreciates that kind, and 
it needs no mathematician to prove that they 
will make a congenial couple. 

The day was delightful. Just the right 
amount of wind was blowing for a sail. They 
talked pleasantly for some time as the big yacht 
skimmed over the water like a great white bird. 
Then Andrews said, “Miss Langdon, I have a 
friend who says that all women are flirts. Is he 
right?” 


A Change of Opinion. 89 

“Really Mr. Andrews, you take me at a dis- 
advantage.” 

“How so ?” 

“Why, you ask me either to laud or condemn 
myself, and you know that no man can, on trial, 
be compelled to give testimony against himself. 

Andrews laughed. “Let’s change the sub- 
ject. See that school of red fish?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, if we were in Hawaii and these fish 
came into the harbor we might expect to hear 
of the death of a member of the royal family. 
The Hawaiians have a superstition that these 
fish come to announce the death of a chief. Are 
you at all superstitious ?” 

“Well, I believe that thirteen is an unlucky 
number.” 

“Yes ?” 

“There were thirteen of us in our dub and 
all but five got married before the club was a 
year old. 

“What kind of a club; Browning or Shake- 
speare ?” 

“Neither. We had vowed solemn vows that 
we would not marry until — ” she stopped short. 

“Why do you stop ?” Andrews asked. 

“You men say that women can not keep a 
secret. I guess that you are right. I came near 
giving our club secret away.” 


90 


A Change of Opinion. 


They soon landed, and giving Diana in charge 
of her uncle, who was at the dock waiting for 
them, Andrews went to the club. 

“Diana,” said her uncle, “what made you go 
with Andrews after you said that you would 
not ?” 

“Because,” said that young lady, “because I 
love — sailing.” 

VI. 

Andrews met Diana quite frequently during 
the following days. Their meeting always 
awoke in Andrews the question, “Will she stand 
the test ?” 

“I can stand this no longer,” he said one day ; 
“I shall have to settle the matter at once.” He 
turned to his telephone and calling up Miss 
Langdon, asked her if she cared for a sail. 

“I’ll be down directly,” she replied, and she 
soon appeared. They boarded the yacht in 
silence. Neither spoke for a while, then An- 
drews broke the silence saying, bluntly, “Diana, 
I love you ; I have always loved you. Will you 
be my wife ?” 

Miss Langdon was silent for a moment, then 
she asked, “Why did you act the way you did 
when you saw my picture ?” 

“Your answer first,” groaned Andrews. 


91 


A Change of Opinion. 

“I cannot give you my answer today. Come 
to my uncle’s tomorrow and I will answer then 
and there. Let’s go hack.” 

Knowing that it would be useless to argue 
with her and make her give him her answer im- 
mediately, Andrews turned the yacht and 
started for home. 

After landing, he took her to her uncle’s and 
left her at the gate. She had not asked him 
to come in, but he had not noticed the omission. 

“One who has never been accused of trying to 
make a man love her, and when she has him in 
that fix, declare that she only likes him and 
hopes that they will always be friends,” kept 
ringing in his ears. Certain it was that since 
she had met him Diana had tried to make him 
love her. Would she stand the test? 

VII. 

Andrews did not come to work the day after. 
“He ’phoned me that he would not be down 
until afternoon,” said Roberts, when Harris 
called to see his friend. “He is not feeling well. 
But, Harris, you have not met my niece. Come 
this way.” An urgent message intercepted him 
as they went to Andrews’ room, and hearing 
that his niece and Harris were old acquain- 
tances, Harris was left to renew his friendship. 


92 


A Change of Opinion. 


Somehow, Harris had not met the young lady 
since her arrival at Mulford. He avoided all 
parties and gatherings which he knew she was 
to attend and once he had gone away just as he 
reached the door of a friend’s house, because he 
caught a glimpse of her as she talked to Walter 
Andrews. 

Harris stopped at the door. Should he go in 
or should he meet her and denounce her and her 
works ? He decided on the latter and knocked 
at the office. A low voice bade him enter. Clos- 
ing the door he turned and saw the beautiful 
woman reading a hook. Looking her full in the 
face he said, “Diana.” 

“John!” she exclaimed. 

“Yes, it is John. Diana, have you changed 
your mind ?” Somehow the dreadful words 
which he had planned to utter failed to come 
and instead he realized that he loved her, and 
loved with his whole heart. 

Diana was silent. “Then you still do not love 
me ?” he asked. 

“I really do not know,” she replied softly. 

Harris started for the door. 

“John,” she called. 

He left the door and flung himself beside her 
chair. 

“I love you,” she said ; “I love, love you.” 

It was the same old story, the telling of which 


A Change of Opinion. 


93 


has never made it grow out of fashion. He 
caught her up and kissed her again and again. 

“Won’t Andrews he glad that I am at last 
to settle down and marry the most beautiful 
woman on earth V 9 he asked playfully. 

“I think not/’ she answered. 

“You think not ? Why ?” 

“Because yesterday he asked me to marry 
him.” 

“What did you tell him ?” 

“To call this afternoon.” 

“'Send for him now; don’t keep the poor fel- 
low in suspense.” 

A messager was dispatched and Andrews 
came looking haggard and wan. 

“Your answer ?” he asked. 

“Mr. Andrews, I sent for you to tell you 
that I can not marry you. I love another man. 
Can’t we just be friends ?” 

Andrews sank into a chair. “He was right,” 
Andrews muttered, “Harris was right. Ho 
beautiful woman is good.” Then springing up 
he shouted, “ ‘Let’s be friends,’ did you say ? 
Hever ! Henceforth my greatest enemy shall be 
a beautiful woman.” 


«■ 


A FATAL EXCUR- 
SION 











A FATAL EXCURSION 


HERE is a large school in Honolulu, 



ii called the Royal School. It is so named 
because at one time only children of royal blood 
were allowed to attend it. But that is another 


story . 


Business with the principal took me up there 
one day, and, while waiting for him, I sat and 
talked with the janitor. 

The school is on a small hill and the road 
near it is quite steep. Trolley cars run up that 
road and come down with the speed of light- 
ning. 

“Whew !” I could not help exclaiming as one 
car in particular shot past us, “if some day an 
axle should break, more than one person would 
get hurt, and badly too.” 

“You bet,” replied the janitor. There was a 
pause, and then he said, “Anyhow, I never ride 
in them cars unless I can’t help it. I hate any- 
thing with wheels.” 


98 


A Fatal Excursion. 


I smiled, sympathetically, I thought, but I 
suppose in his estimation it was a smile of in- 
credulity for he hastened to say, a I used to he 
a locomotive fireman, but since the day that Jim 
got killed, I’ve had but little use for anything 
but my legs.” 

Scenting a story, I asked, “How was that ?” 

He bit off a fresh bite of tobacco and then 
began : 

“As I said before, I used to be a locomotive 
fireman over on Hawaii. Good job alright, but 
I couldn’t stand it after Jim died. Jim was my 
friend, and a right good fellow he was. His 
job was night watchman on the docks, but his 
health gave way and the doctor told him the best 
thing he could do was to go to ’Frisco. 

“My run included Kohala — ever been there ?” 

I shook my head. 

“Well, you don’t know what you have missed 
then. The scenery is magnificent. I had often 
talked with Jim concerning the place, and he 
was just crazy to go and see for himself. He 
never had a chance, though, because he used to 
sleep all day and work all night. But when 
the doctor ordered him to throw up his job, he 
came to me and asked me to try and get him a 
permit to ride on my train. We were on a 
freighter, and didn’t carry passengers, so I went 
up- to the manager, and told him the circum- 
stances. But the manager was cross that day 


A Fatal Excursion . 


99 


and of course he said ‘no’ ; said he’d quit giving 
passes to people. I told that to Jim and he was 
dreadfully disappointed; told me he wanted to 
see the place before he went hack to the States. 
So I went to my engineer and asked him to 
take Jim as a brakeman. At first he refused, 
but I insisted, and while we were talking, a 
kanaka woman came up and said that her Joe 
wouldn’t be able to work that trip, as he was 
sick. 

“I jumped up and made the engineer promise 
to take Jim in his stead. He said ‘yes,’ and I 
went to tell Jim that he might go, and to ex- 
plain his duties to him. W e were to leave at 
six o’clock Sunday morning, and I left Jim’s 
house early so as to let him sleep enough to get 
up early the next morning. 

“Sunday morning came, and, by Jove! I 
never saw a more beautiful morning again. The 
birds were singing most glorious, and the sun 
shining through the heavy dew drops, made 
them look like so many diamonds. 

“Before you get to Kohala, you have to come 
to a steep, curved incline. We always whistled 
for ‘brakes’ when we got there and I had ex- 
plained to Jim that when we’d blow three 
whistles, he was to apply the brakes. He said 
he understood and took his seat on a brake, one 
of them circular kind that you turn with your 
hand, you know. He sat on the last box car, 


100 


A Fatal Excursion, 


but there were a whole lot of flat cars back of 
him. 

“We started off; Jim enjoying the air, and I, 
happy in thinking that I had b§en able to give 
the poor fellow such pleasure. By and by we 
came near that curve and the engineer blew the 
whistle for brakes. Before we started, Jim 
seemed to understand the signals, but now the 
cars were coming down that hill faster than I 
had ever seen them before. 

“ ‘What’s the matter with that brakeman V 
the engineer asked me. 

“ ‘I dunno,’ I said, ‘unless he’s fallen off.’ 

“ ‘Maybe that’s it,’ the engineer told me, 
‘when we get to the bottom of this, we’d better 
see.’ So when we got to the foot of the hill, he 
stopped the engine and we walked back. 

“It was at the beginning of the curve that we 
found Jim. Yes, he had fallen off. Poor fel- 
low ; ten flat cars had gone over him, and there 
was mighty little left of him. He had been 
cutting up some tobacco for his pipe, and we 
found his pipe and a plug of tobacco and his 
knife lying near him. I’ve got the knife at 
home now. 

“When we got back from Kohala., I packed up 
and came to Honolulu. I couldn’t stand any 
more railroading. 

“That’s why, I can’t bear cars of any sort. 
Do you blame me ?” 

I couldn’t say that I did. 






























SO l»06 
















































































































*COPYDEf jTOQ*T, rwT> 
















20 1908 
































JUL 23.I&W} 

















































































































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